


Pick Me Up

by Lymers



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23890801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lymers/pseuds/Lymers
Summary: Nicole's cheesy chat up lines are just what Waverly needs. Will she fall for them?A Wayhaught one shot...
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 5
Kudos: 167





	Pick Me Up

Three months. It had taken three months to get to this position. In bed, together. Waverly could tell Nicole was looking at her. She turned her body to face her, wondering what life would have been like had she not chosen to have a drink by herself in the bar across the street from her apartment. 

“What’s that smile for?” Nicole asked, as she studied Waverly’s face.

“Thinking about the first time we met. All those cheesy lines.”

“They were so bad. But, they worked. Got you to go out with me. And, look where we are.”

“Nearly didn’t. Remember.”

“You read the number wrong.”

“You can’t write seven.”

“Guess what number I’m thinking of right now.”

Waverly laughed. “Don’t say it. Nicole, I’m warning you. I know how your mind works.”

Nicole whispered it in Waverly’s ear. “Why that number?”

“Cuz, I want us to be like this forever.”

“That’s so sweet. I thought you were going to say…”

“I know. Okay, that was the other number I was thinking of.”

It earned Nicole a thump on the arm. Waverly cradled Nicole’s face with both hands, kissing her softly, gazing into those deep brown eyes of hers. For the first time in months she could see a future brighter than the one that took her to a quiet bar one evening to drown her sorrows. 

Waverly cradled her glass with both hands, sad eyes staring at nothing, wondering what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She could hear a woman talking behind the bar, taking over from the bartender who had served her for the past hour, telling him to have a good evening. She could feel someone’s eyes on her, not bothering to look up to see who. Another night of feeling her world no longer held anything good.

“Say, are those tears in that glass?” the new bartender asked, wiping the cloth in her hand across the bar.

“Vodka.”

The bartender stopped what she was doing, standing in front of Waverly. “Someone as pretty as you should never look this sad.”

Waverly moved her eyes from the glass to look at the woman talking, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly as she studied her face. She returned her gaze to the glass, losing herself once more in her own world of hurt. 

“Say, are you lost?”

Waverly looked up once more, not really wanting to make conversation. “Why?”

“Cuz, I reckon heaven’s missing an angel right about now.”

Waverly tried not to smile, but her mouth had moved on its own accord. “That’s so unbelievably cheesy.”

“Comes with the job. You ready for a refill? That’s part of my job too.”

Waverly moved her glass across the bar, watching the bartender fill it with a double shot of vodka. “On the house. Wanna tell me about it.”

“You’ll have me drunk, and crying the way I’m feeling.”

“Also my job. Making customers cry. Happy to listen if you need someone to tell your story to. Seen you in here a few times. With a guy. Never seen you looking this unhappy.”

Waverly’s eyes remained on her glass. “It’s fine. Too long a story. Too tired of it being in my head.” She raised her glass. “Here’s to happier times.”

The bartender opened a bottle of beer, taking a swig, joining Waverly in the toast. “To happier times. You want me to keep chatting, or do you need some space?”

“Stay. Unless you’re busy.”

“Does this place look busy to you?”

Waverly looked round. Two middle-aged men sat at the other end of the bar were the only other customers. “Slow night.”

“Yep. Although, I get to talk to someone like you. Practise my lines. I’m warning you now you might fall madly in love with me.”

“Is that so,” Waverly attempting to make small talk, her mind on other things. 

The bartender rested her forearms on the bar, her eyes in direct line with Waverly’s. “Hmm, let me guess, you’re a surgeon. Right?”

“Wrong.”

“No, I’m right. Cuz you’ve taken my heart away.”

“That’s so lame.”

“I know. Okay, how about this. I reckon your dad is in jail.”

“Why?”

“Cuz, he stole the stars and put them in your eyes.”

“Do these lines ever work for you?”

“I saw a little smile there. I think I’m winning you over.”

“Oh, do you? If anyone used those lines on me I’d run a mile.”

“Well, those legs of yours must be tired, cuz you’ve been running through my mind since I first saw you.”

Waverly was laughing, whatever sorrows had brought her to that particular bar on that particular Friday evening were forgotten for now. Whoever this bartender was, her easy manner and cheesy charm were having the right effect. She sipped her drink, trying to think of her own lines to counter those she was hearing. None came to mind.

“So, I’m guessing man trouble.”

Waverly nodded.

“And, I’m guessing the guy you came in here with, he’s the trouble.”

Waverly nodded.

“But, I don’t think that’s your real problem.”

Waverly stared into her glass. “How come?” 

Nicole’s voice softer, her eyes remaining fixed on Waverly, her body leaning over the bar a little further, as if to whisper something. “See, I think what you’re really suffering from is a lack of vitamin me.”

Waverly snorted, feeling a flutter of excitement, guessing this bartender played these lines on anyone naïve enough to fall for them. Naïve, or not, she was enjoying the attention, the corny lines not so much. It didn’t matter. Having someone see her, make her feel less unhappy was welcome. And, the way the bartender focused on her was making her feel things. 

Waverly lifted her eyes, letting them linger on the bartender’s face, trying to weigh her up. “You know, with looks like yours you don’t need lines like that.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“I’m serious. I bet you get hit on all the time.”

“Not as often as you imagine. Kind of part of the furniture to most people in this bar. So long as I get their order right.”

“You’re telling me guys don’t come on to you. Don’t believe you.”

The bartender returned to full height, giving the bar another wipe. “Not interested in guys.”

“Oh, right. Gone off them myself, after my ex did a real number on me. I’m open to anyone who isn’t going to rip my heart out.”

“Not into ripping hearts out. Not my style. Open to suggestions on anything else you’d like ripped.”

“Is that so?”

The grin on Nicole’s face told Waverly she was enjoying their conversation as much as she was. “Okay, went a little too far there. Say, can I borrow a quarter.” 

“Sure. Why?”

“I promised my mom I’d call her when I met the girl of my dreams.”

Waverly shook her head, downing her drink, reaching for her bag to pay. “That’s it. I’m out of here. You’ve won. So, do you have a name?”

“I do,” the bartender taking the notes Waverly was holding out.

“And…”

“Also have a number.”

Waverly’s eyebrows raised at the mention of a number. “Are you hitting on me?”

“That obvious. I’ll admit you caught my eye when you came in before. Never had a chance to speak to you till now.”

“Look. I’m flattered, but I’m in a really sad place right now.”

The bartender took a paper coaster from the pile, writing on it, pushing it across to Waverly. “I understand. But, you look like you could use a friend. And, I come with benefits.”

Waverly studied the coaster. “Nicole, I like that. It suits you.”

“Wait till you hear my surname. It’s Haught, as in, extremely.”

“No. Too much. That’s another of your lines.”

“Seriously, it’s Haught. Look, if you’re around tomorrow evening I could always make you one of my special cocktails. Guaranteed to make anyone feel better. I’m also available for coffee and museum tours, but not before 11am. Need my beauty sleep.”

“Coffee, cocktails and corny lines. Girl of many talents. I might see you tomorrow Nicole Haught. That’s so not your surname.”

“Is too. And, I so can prove it.”

The gasp leaving Waverly’s mouth betrayed her interest in this Nicole, a bartender who had made her feel good for a short while. Finding someone who could take her blues away had not been on her agenda that evening. All she wanted was to not go back to her apartment, not see the packed boxes of her life, the failure of her experiment of living with someone in a new city. She would be moving out in a few days, not sure where to go, not sure what she wanted to do with her life. 

She collected her coat from the nearby stool, smiling at Nicole. “I’m Waverly.”

“Pretty name. I had you down as a Waverly.”

“I like you. You’re fun. Even if you do have the worst lines ever.”

“Call me if you fancy that coffee. And, just so you know, I take it like I take my women.”

Waverly’s eyes widened, waiting for the punchline. “Okay, tell me, I can’t believe I’m asking, how do you take your coffee?”

“In bed,” Nicole replied, with a wink. 

The short walk back to her apartment was more pleasant than the walk she made earlier that evening. She let herself in, turning on the light, looking at the emptiness of her life, the promises about a future never kept by someone she thought loved her, had hoped respected her enough not to run off with a supposed friend and quite a lot of her money. Naïve was the word she told herself, over and over, as she let what had happened sink in. 

The morning light hit her eyes, telling her it was a new day. The next chapter awaited. The coaster with Nicole’s number lay on her bedside table. She was fun, she thought, as she entered her number into her phone. Maybe coffee might be a welcome break from feeling sorry for herself. Not in bed. Although, she wouldn’t say no if the offer presented itself. She made the call, an old woman answered. “Hello. Is that you Grace?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Nicole. Is she there?”

“No one by that name, honey. You got the right number?”

Waverly hung up, checking the number in her phone against the one Nicole had written down. All the numbers were the same. That sinking feeling at having been given the wrong number. Her life officially sucked. Not only had she just been cheated on by her boyfriend, but the cute bartender had brushed her off. She headed to the small store, her casual clothes on, hair a mess. She scanned the boxes of breakfast cereal, her mind lost in thought.

“It’s Waverly right? The angel who found my bar.”

Waverly turned, Nicole’s face beaming down at her. The smile dropped when she saw Waverly glaring at her. “Are you okay? You look really upset.”

“If you didn’t want coffee why not say so.”

“Err, I do. We can go right after I pay for these items. Is everything okay?”

“Not really. You gave me a wrong number.”

“I gave you my number. On the coaster.”

“So, the old woman who keeps answering is you.”

“Call my number. I promise it’s right.”

Waverly pulled out her phone, pressing the entry for Nicole, putting it on speaker, both listening to it ring. The old woman answered. Waverly hung up. “There. See.”

“Wait, what number do you have for me?”

Waverly shoved the phone towards her, Nicole reading the number, nodding. “It’s a seven not a one. You entered a one. I should make my numbers clearer, but in my defence it was kind of dark in the bar. Can I buy you that coffee to make up for you getting my number wrong?”

Waverly could feel the heat in her face. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time trusting people right now. That poor woman I kept calling.”

“At least we cleared up the problem. Would hate you to think I stood you up. You’re way too pretty to have that happen to you.”

“Are you always like this? Full on flirt.”

“Actually, no. I have no idea why I’m like this. It’s you. I’m trying a little too hard.”

“It’s okay. I kind of like it.”

The coffee bar was busy, Waverly managing to get the last seats by the window, Nicole returning with their coffees and a slice of cake. “Two forks, we can share.”

Waverly picked up one of the forks. “Thanks for last night.”

“Now who’s the one with the lines.”

Waverly paused, replaying her words. “You have a one track mind.”

“Sorry, you’ve only just met me and already you think I want to get you into my bed.”

“Do you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind a few times.”

“How many times?”

Nicole grinned. “So, what’s your plan for the rest of your life? And, does it include me?”

“It might. Let’s see how this goes. But, promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“No more corny lines.”


End file.
